


I don’t like milk but...

by Tarek_giverofcookies



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale has the brain cell, M/M, Milk, Pining, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), lactose intolerant Crowley (good omens), milk bottle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:01:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27233905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarek_giverofcookies/pseuds/Tarek_giverofcookies
Summary: Crowley does not like milk. Aziraphale does. Cue the pining.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24
Collections: GO-events NTA #9 - Milkbottle After Dark





	I don’t like milk but...

**Author's Note:**

> I can evidently do words if food is involved.
> 
> Written for the GO Events server's Name That Author Round 9 prompt 'milkbottle'. The challenge required a fic to be 500 words or fewer.

Crowley didn’t like milk. Might’ve had something to do with being a snake. Might’ve had something to do with general lactose intolerance his corporation seemed to come with. Crowley. did. not. like. milk.  
And yet.  
Crowley watched as Aziraphale gleefully sipped his milk, humming tunelessly. They had moved out into the country a few months ago to a small town on the coast. Crowley’s days were filled with gardening, Angel snuggles, and even the occasional farmers market. In fact, the farmers market was to blame for his current predicament. Alongside the crafts and tarts, nestled in the back of one of the booths, was a local dairy booth. Thinking they’d offer cheese or something, Crowley allowed himself to be yanked by the arm by an eager angel. It was worse than cheese. This dairy offered delivery. They even had a milkman. Aziraphale was overjoyed! So now, every morning, Crowley had to watch Aziraphale drink from a milk bottle.  
Crowley sighed.  
The milk bottle looked at him accusingly. Crowley was being judged by a glass carafe made to hold cow juice...  
Aziraphale smiled at him. Crowley fought a grin, his lips twitching. Aziraphale had an utterly adorable milk mustache. Then Aziraphale kicked his lips.  
Aziraphale’s milk consumption was a bit of a problem. Because, though there were snuggles and cocoa galore in their new home (Crowley’s heart still pounded in his chest whenever he remembered that little detail) there remained only those. Sure there were gentle hand touches on a rare occasion. Last week had been an actual honest to someone hug… but… BUT. Aziraphale’s pink tongue poking out of his mouth, chasing those last little droplets of milk...  
Crowley glared at the empty milk bottle.  
\- - -  
Aziraphale watched Crowley watching him. He swallowed a sigh of frustration. Months they had been here, in their home. (His heart fluttered at that. Their home!) And yet. There were snuggles on the sofa, sometimes with wine sometimes with cocoa. Crowley gardened. They went to a farmers market each week. Aziraphale was getting frustrated. He had thought last week's hug might have clued Crowley in to his desire for something more. But, apart from stiffly hugging back, nothing.  
Aziraphale hummed tunelessly as he drank his milk. He was overjoyed when he found the booth with the small local dairy. The fresh milk was lovely and he enjoyed drinking it with his breakfast. But today he happened to look at Crowley after he put the glass down. Crowley was fighting a grin. I must have a milk mustache again, Aziraphale hought to himself, licking his lips. Aziraphale cast his eyes over to Crowley and suddenly realized what the look on his face was: want. Aziraphale knew that Crowley did not like milk. So that left one thing. He smiled.  
“Come here you silly serpent.”  
\- - -  
Crowley may not like milk. But milk flavored kisses are growing on him.


End file.
